Birthday
by Strawberry Shortcake123
Summary: Ziva has a present for Tony. Tiva smut. Oneshot.


**Today I am posting my six final stories as a part of the NCIS fan fiction community. Thank you so much for reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting my stories- you all have made my time here worthwhile.**

"So are you gonna tell me what my present is now?"

Ziva tilts her head to the side, pretending to think, even though he knows that she isn't. "No."

"Why not?" Tony whines. "You shouldn't keep me in suspense on my _birthday_." He stands and walks over to her desk, then leans across it so his face is very, very close to hers. Her long eyelashes flutter. "Come on, Ziva. Be a good girlfriend."

"I _am_ being a good girlfriend," she retorts, reaching out to poke him in the chest. "Because you are going to _love_ what I have for you, and it will be even better if I keep it a surprise."

He has been needling her for hours, but she has yet to budge, and it looks like she's going to stay stubborn. He remains where he is for another few seconds, planning his next line of attack, until she kicks him in the shin.

"Oww!" he yelps, exaggerating _just_ a little. "What was that for?"

Ziva seems satisfied with herself. "For bothering me. Go work; the sooner we get out of here, the sooner you get your gift."

"Fine." Tony huffs loudly, though he does hurry back to his own seat and grab a stack of paperwork. "You know I've got really high expectations now, right?"

"You should," she muses, giving him a wink that makes his heart rate speed up. "You should have _very_ high expectations."

0000000000

When he gets home a half hour after Ziva does, Tony finds her in the kitchen, sliding a piece of chocolate cake onto a plate.

"I cannot believe Gibbs kept you longer than McGee and I on your birthday," Ziva chuckles. She hands him the plate and pecks his cheek.

"Passive aggressiveness at its finest, huh?" Tony sits down. "Is this the grand surprise?" he asks, gesturing to the cake with his fork. "'Cause it looks good and all, but, you know, you kinda hyped this up, and-"

A glare silences him. He quickly shovels a chocolaty bite into his mouth. As he's chewing, Ziva leans close to him. The neckline of her shirt is loose; it falls forward, giving him a full view of her cleavage. It only takes one glance at her face for him to know that this is completely purposeful.

"This is not your surprise," she says lowly, huskily. With one hand, she traces the outline of his jaw, brushes her thumb over his lips. "Eat. I will be in the bedroom when you're finished."

Tony watches her walk away, her hips sashaying from side to side. She disappears into their room, and he immediately loses all interest in the cake. Instead of finishing it, he leaps to his feet and practically sprints down the hallway.

Ziva doesn't seem the slightest bit surprised that he has followed her. She allows him to shut the door behind them; then she starts forward, sandwiching his body between hers and the wall. Tony's breath catches in his throat as her lips brush his ear.

"Take all your clothes off," she murmurs, "and lie on the bed."

One of her hands lingers over his crotch, stroking lightly through the material of his slacks. He is just beginning to grow hard when, suddenly, she is gone, spinning around and walking into the bathroom. The door closes a second later.

Hopefully, when she emerges, she won't be wearing anything, either.

Tony sets about following her instructions. He hangs up all the pieces of his suit and tosses his boxers into the hamper and then, because there is nothing left to do but wait, he goes ahead and lies down. The comforter is cool against his bare skin. It's kind of chilly in the room, actually.

That's okay. He has a feeling that he'll be very, _very_ warm soon.

He hears a doorknob turn, and he glances over just in time to see Ziva reentering the bedroom. His breath catches. She wears nothing but a pair of skimpy black underwear and a matching bra that pushes everything up and out. For several seconds, she stands there, letting Tony gawk.

Then she is resting one knee beside each of his hips and sitting down on his stomach. His hands immediately come to rest on her thighs. The skin is silky smooth, as always.

Ziva pats his chest. "Happy birthday, Tony," she says quietly, and, very briefly, the air turns serious. He looks into her eyes and sees adoration. Sincerity.

Just as quickly as the moment came, it is gone. She reaches behind her to unclasp her bra. It slides down her arms, and she tosses it onto the floor. He takes her in, every nearly naked inch of her. _This_ is one reason why his partner is the best in the world.

It's his birthday, so she's letting him enjoy the show.

She also, it seems, is going to tease him. After giving him a minute to admire his spectacular view, she leans forward so their bodies are parallel, her elbows braced by his head, and slowly begins rubbing her breasts against his chest.

Her hard nipples scrape his skin, setting all his nerve endings on high alert. She ducks her head to kiss him: slowly and sweetly at first, and then faster, with a sense of urgency. Their tongues slide along each other. He clings to her, wanting to feel her as much as he can taste her. Her breasts are smashed up against his torso; her pelvis presses into his. They've barely started, but Tony is already panting. She _knows_ how to get to him. Really, she has it down to an art form.

He finally manages to break away from her. "You just gonna tease me?"

"Yes."

He wasn't really expecting that answer, and he's not sure how to respond to it. Ziva moves her lips to his neck while also reaching down to squeeze his erection. He inhales sharply. Even as she drops wet, open-mouthed kisses across his collarbone, her grip below does not loosen. Tony's fingers curl into the blanket beneath him; he trails his other hand through her hair and down her back. She remains in his hold for just a minute before moving lower in order to kiss down his torso. Her tongue darts out of her mouth to draw patterns on his skin; each time she does this, his cock twitches- and, judging by her accompanying chuckle, she notices.

Ziva gets closer and closer to the spot that demands her undivided attention. He shifts his hips upward slightly in anticipation. Her lips go to his left hip and then travel along his waist to the right, leaving a trial of fire in her wake. She gently bites the skin atop his bone. Tony rolls his head to the side so he can look down at her. Immediately, their eyes meet, and he is rewarded with an impish grin. Dark locks frame her face and her cheeks are flushed pink and she is brimming with confidence in herself; she thinks- no, she _knows_ that she will be able to give him exactly what he needs.

There was never any doubt about that, actually, but seeing her so excited makes him feel that way, too.

He eagerly waits for her to continue, but she surprises him yet again by rising up on her knees, her hips perched in the air directly above his. She slips her fingers beneath the waistband of her underwear and pauses to toy with it for a second. It's beyond his control; he reaches up to cup her. Through the fabric, she is hot and soaking wet and _damn it_.

"Take them off," he begs.

Ziva smacks his hand away. "Be patient."

"I'm having trouble with that," he says, "at this particular moment."

Tilting her head to the side, she finally pulls the panties down. They catch on her thighs and she has to maneuver out of them; once she is free, she tosses them aside and leans forward to rest her palms flat on the bed, forming a cage around him. Their faces are close enough for Tony to steal a quick kiss. His hands slide around her waist, and she doesn't object as she slowly lowers herself just far enough down that his tip brushes her silky heat. "There, Tony," she murmurs huskily, swaying back and forth, back and forth, creating sweet friction. He digs his nails into her ass. "There."

"Ziva," he grunts. He is valiantly fighting the intense urge to flip her over. Instead, he grips her desperately, probably leaving half-moon shaped marks on her skin. His balls are painfully tight. He focuses all his energy on the sensation of her rubbing up against his cock and wishes for release.

Ziva tilts her hips at a different angle. After a moment of moving this way, her face screwed up in concentration, she grunts. Tony starts to ask if she's okay before realizing that she is bumping his tip up against her clit. He reaches between their bodies and grabs his cock. He expects her to stop him, but she doesn't, and so he proceeds to push himself harder into her pleasure area.

"_Ken_," she moans. She grinds down against him, and his cock absolutely _aches_ to bury itself deep inside her. As if reading his mind and seeking to stop him, Ziva takes his shaft from him and slowly drags the tip through her folds. He jerks involuntarily. She repeats this twice, almost driving him over the edge before abruptly raising herself off of him. She backs up and settles on the bed between his legs. Tony, in his muddled state, manages to grab a pillow and prop it under his neck. It raises his head just enough that he can comfortably see her. Ziva smiles as if to say, _You've earned this_, and then his cock disappears between her swollen red lips.

The moisture secreted by her tongue as it slides up his length is almost enough to make him come right then and there. He tangles his hands in her hair, grips it like a lifeline, and he never looks away from her. She has one arm slung across his abdomen to hold down his bucking hips. Her eyes are at half-mast.

How can she be so calm, so in control, when he is about to completely lose his head?

She releases almost all of his erection, redirecting her tongue to trace his tip several times. Then, after taking a gulp of air, she goes down completely on him again. Her spare hand works his balls, massaging and tweaking and kneading. Tony feels himself grow closer, _very_ close. That is even before she lies down so that, while still working him, she can wriggle around on top of his thigh. As soon as he feels the burning heat searing his skin, he makes a deep, guttural sound. She is freaking _humping his leg_, and her breaths are coming hard and fast against his cock, and the look on her face leads him to believe that she is getting as much pleasure out of this as he is.

_Almost_ as much, maybe. Because he is definitely about to come.

While he still can, he tries to warn her. "Ziva…"

She hums in acknowledgement. The sound vibrates around his cock, and he involuntarily thrusts upward.

"Ziva, hey," he says again, but she gives him a long lick from bottom to top, and all coherent thought flies out of his head.

It has just registered in his mind that she's not pulling away when he shudders violently and spills. He grits his teeth, feels Ziva's mouth stubbornly wrapped around him. His head bumps the back of her throat as she swallows; then she sets about lapping up the excess. Chills shoot up his spine in contrast to the heat coursing through his body. He sighs in dazed pleasure and lets Ziva do her thing while he struggles to regain his bearings.

Once he can think clearly again, he glances at her. She is watching him with a satisfied expression, feet tucked underneath her. Tony sits up and wordlessly extends an arm. When she crawls over to him, he notices a speck of white on her chin.

"Missed some there," he teases gently, wiping it off with his thumb.

"Hmm." Ziva licks her lips. That move coming from his naked partner (who has also just given him a blowjob and let him come in her mouth) turns him on all over again. Before he knows what he's doing, Tony has grabbed her and pinned her to the bed. He straddles her waist and leans down to devour one of her breasts. She does not object; in fact, she tugs him closer. Her fingers twine in his hair and her slender leg hooks around his hip. She pants heavily in his ear, murmuring, "Yes. Oh, yes."

If they keep this up, he'll be fully hard again in no time.

They are going along fine until Tony tries to kiss her. Then she recoils, turning away. "Hold on," she orders. " I need mouthwash."

He doesn't release her. "No, you don't."

"Yes, I do. I am sure I taste awful."

"Hurry back," he warns before rolling off of her. He unashamedly stares at her backside as she walks into the bathroom. A second later, he hears water running. He keeps listening; as soon as he hears her spit, he decides that his wait is over and goes to follow her. She looks up when he swings around the doorframe and, before she can say anything, he has grabbed her and backed her up against the wall. Their lips mold together effortlessly. The smell of mint and something undeniably _her_ fills his nostrils. He is suddenly so, so hungry- and not in the way a pizza would help.

He drags one hand through the valley between her breasts, stopping to pinch each of her nipples in turn. The first time, she gasps; the second, she arches into him. Tony doesn't linger there, though. He caresses the taut muscles of her abdomen, then dips his fingers between her legs and presses them into her folds.

"Stop," she says, drawing back suddenly. "This is _your_ birthday, Tony."

He puts his chin on her shoulder and continues to stroke her. "Maybe," he murmurs lowly, "for my birthday, I want you to be completely at my mercy."

Ziva exhales shakily but, apparently, has no retort.

Worrying her earlobe between his teeth, he wastes no time in finding her clit and rubbing his palm against it. She has her palms flat on his back and although he has done this for her countless times before, he's feeling especially pleased with himself tonight.

Dropping his head down to nestle in the crook of her neck, he centralizes and increases the pressure on her clit by moving his thumb in hard, tight circles against it. Ziva moans, mostly in Hebrew; the only word he can catch is _Tony_. Gentle bites on her skin elicit more breathy gasps. He never ceases his work between her legs; he pushes and pushes and pushes her toward climax. Even when she begins grinding down on his hand, teeth gritted, he refuses to let up. She clutches his biceps and throws her head back against the wall as she slides slowly down it. The only force holding her up is the steady free arm he has wound around her waist. Moans and grunts become whimpers. When she is little more than putty in his hands and her body is just short of convulsing with ecstasy, he slows. Rubs her more gently. Works her down, so to speak, even though she has not yet finished.

"What are you doing?" she demands, seeming to have forgotten all about her previous insistence that she not be pleasured on _his _birthday.

Tony smirks. "Patience, ninja." He squeezes her ass; with his other hand, he moves all her hair behind her shoulders. She stares at him. It is almost a dare: a dare to touch her anywhere other than where she wants him to.

He touches the underside of her breast, then leans over to kiss along the top curve of it. Ziva grips the back of his neck, and it's clear that he is forgiven. He pulls his hand up and turns it over to palm her breast. His ear settles just over her heartbeat. He watches himself fondle her as her most vital organ lets him know that she is alive and here and well.

_Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum_.

She brushes through his hair. Without moving his head- because he certainly doesn't want to alienate her touch- Tony extends his tongue and tastes her nipple.

"Tony," she whines, desperately shoving her pelvis into his. "Please."

Tony lifts his head off of her chest and kisses her nose. Below, his hand drums against the inside of her thigh. Ziva is watching him expectantly; when, without warning, he drives two fingers into her, he gets to watch her eyes widen and her mouth form an _o_.

Her walls contract in an attempt to pull him in deeper. He pushes as hard as he can, trying to help. She scratches his bare back.

"No games this time," he promises. "I'll get you there. I'll get you all the way there."

Ziva huffs. To prevent her from calling him out on what he did before, he hits what he knows to be one of her most sensitive spots. She gasps, so he twists his wrist, making sure to get her right there again and then again. All he smells is her arousal; it permeates every inch of the air around them.

"I need you," she pants.

A grin threatens to break out across his lips, because even now, when they are in a committed relationship and they sleep together at least twice a week, her vulnerability amazes him. "I know. Hold on. I gotcha." Continuing to pump in and out, he soothingly encourages her. "Come on, Ziva."

At that, something strange happens: her eyes, formerly at half-mast, fly open. She grasps both of his arms, effectively removing the one hand from inside her, and pushes him backwards. Tony is so surprised that he goes along with it, no questions asked; half a second later, he is sitting on the closed lid of the toilet.

Ziva plants her hot little ass in his lap and wraps her legs around his waist. For a moment, while she holds onto his shoulders for balance, she stares into his eyes. And then at his lips.

And then down at his throbbing cock.

And he knows what she wants.

He lifts his ass off the seat, searching for her core. It doesn't require any more effort than that; as soon as he demonstrates his willingness- his _eagerness_, really- to be inside her, she lifts her body and then comes down on him, hard. Her muscles massage his length as it fills her. Tony hisses and seizes her bare waist. She screws up her face in concentration as she begins to furiously move her hips. Curls fall over both of them, she is riding him so wildly.

Clearly, she is a woman on a mission.

He matches her thrust for thrust, and they grunt in tandem, and they keep their arms tight around each other. Ziva is biting his shoulder. He couldn't care less; the pain is overshadowed by his pleasure as he draws toward a second climax (happy birthday to him, indeed).

But first, he wants to see her fall apart. That is his priority for the moment. He grabs her sides to steady her, and the next time she stills slightly, he slams up and into her. Ziva, surprised, releases his skin from her teeth with a loud gasp. Her head falls back in anticipation; she shoves a breast into his mouth, and now it is his turn to bite. She begins to pant heavily.

"Yes. More," she murmurs, and that's all he needs. While his lips remain closed around her breast, he pounds into her once more- but this time, he doesn't pause. He pushes his shaft as far into her as is physically possible, pulls out, and shoves himself back in. _One. Two, _she shudders violently, and on _three_, she screeches his name.

He holds her close as she shakes and shivers and murmurs her thanks, though he can't figure out _why_ she's doing the latter; he is, after all, the one who wanted to see her come. Tony gives her several seconds to regain some semblance of control. She has not recovered completely- and yes, he is very aware of this- when he reaches down between their bodies and returns his thumb to her sensitive clit.

"_What_," she gasps, but is unable to finish.

He, way too busy concentrating to explain right now, ignores her. His cock is buried deep between her inner muscles as he rocks back and forth. Judging by the sexy little mewling sounds Ziva is making, she is ready for a second release, just as he hoped she would be soon.

Tony brings his hand up from the junction of her legs and twists her long curls around his fingers, gripping them hard. "Come on," he says, to himself as well as to her. He is so engorged that it's painful. "One more for me."

She whimpers.

"It's my birthday, Ziva," he reminds her in a whisper. Between her splayed legs, he continues to snap his hips. He drags his tongue along the shell of her ear. "Remember what I said I wanted for my birthday?" His voice is husky, thick with lust. With longing. With desire for her, and only her. "I said that I want you at my mercy."

"And what does that mean, Tony?" she prompts, matching his tone. "Tell me."

Rarely does she request dirty talk, but he doesn't mind administering it. "It means that I'm inside you and I'm gonna feel you come around me." Just the thought makes his cock strain even more than it has been. "You're gonna spasm… you're gonna squeeze me."

Ziva locks her arms around his neck. "Keep going."

He juts upward, hard, drawing a moan. "And then you're going to collapse in my arms and I'm gonna hold you. And then- I'm gonna come, too."

"In me?"

"In you. Right in you. And you're already so hot and tight around my dick-"

"When?" she interrupts.

"Now."

Tony gently lifts her ass a little bit off his lap, just to get her at the right angle, before pulling out far enough that only his tip remains inside her. Then he brings her down, hard, on top of him, and she lets out one more scream as she goes over the edge and he follows.

They fall back against the toilet tank. His elbow flies to the left and inadvertently pushes down on the lever; from beneath the closed lid comes the sound of flushing water. It takes a moment for them to realize what just happened as they recover from their orgasms, and they stare at each other; then Ziva bursts out laughing. Tony kisses her gently and chuckles, too.

Just as quickly as the smile appeared on her face, it is gone; her eyes become dark again, and her demeanor turns serious. She tilts her head to the side. "Our night is young, yes?"

It's _our night_, apparently. Like they own it. "I guess so," he replies, smoothing her hair back.

"So, ah… tell me more about what Special Agent DiNozzo wants to do with his night." She grins impishly. "It _is_ his birthday, after all."

"Yes," he agrees. "It is."

He kisses her then- devours her, really- and they don't leave that bathroom for another hour.


End file.
